ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Daily Deviation
Literature Text
So, you want to
Try again?
Each time
Life count drops
The sweaty buttons
Sticky under practised
Fingers.
Click click click.
Level up.
Moving on. Blood
Pumping, pounding.
Rounding corners
Juddering lights
Swatting away the
Opposition.
Bang bang bang.
Level complete.
Fuzzy pixels swarming
Forming the tiny person
Character. You.
A twisting maze of
False reality.
It's safe here.
Would you like to Save?
[Yes]< [No]
Time is running out.
Leave, fall out!
Specks of light
Whizzing past
Turning, aiming
Die die die
Falling.
Game Over.
Try again?
Each time
Life count drops
The sweaty buttons
Sticky under practised
Fingers.
Click click click.
Level up.
Moving on. Blood
Pumping, pounding.
Rounding corners
Juddering lights
Swatting away the
Opposition.
Bang bang bang.
Level complete.
Fuzzy pixels swarming
Forming the tiny person
Character. You.
A twisting maze of
False reality.
It's safe here.
Would you like to Save?
[Yes]< [No]
Time is running out.
Leave, fall out!
Specks of light
Whizzing past
Turning, aiming
Die die die
Falling.
Game Over.
Literature
THAT POEM (Writer's Block)
I sat down at my computer last Thursday night
with the full intention of writing THAT POEM. Oh, don't
play dumb. You know what THAT POEM is. We all know
what THAT POEM is. You with the cigarette train-tracks
charting your eternal drift to nowhere
on the insides of your arms, you
with the sludge of alcohol dripping thick & brown through
veins swollen & slow & pussy as zombies, you
with the eight children whose faces you can't remember
& the husband in the Hamptons whose name you sometimes forget
& the lover who never seems to come around as much as you pay him to – you
all know what THAT POEM
is. It's the rhythm beating a dull
Literature
The Rumour of Icarus
Icarus—
there is a rumour that your father killed you, that
he bent your wings until they broke and then
told you, "Fly."
If this rumour is true, then it lives in the throats of
those fragile boys who wear your death like Cain's mark,
whose tender hands split like swollen tomatoes when
they pluck strangled seabirds, whose
arms slump beneath the weight of their father's genius.
And this rumour lives on
the under-skin of their eyelids so that when they die
or simply sleep
they dream of their fathers
or maybe just of Daedalus, standing with
his hands full of feathers and wax,
their blood-flecked down under his fingernails
Literature
*
I unbutton you, kiss by kiss.
I untie you, touch by touch.
I unzip you, rib by rib.
I unfasten you, moment by moment.
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
Gamerz, yo.
© 2011 - 2024 shantottoEars
Comments236
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
While it's a nicely-written poem about gaming, I think it can also relate to real life in certain situations, too. Well done~ 